


To the ones we lost at sea

by cablecurrent



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood, Ciel Phantomhive is not an idiot, Gen, Hurt Sebastian, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Character, Mild Gore, Mystery, Mythology - Freeform, Post-Campania, Sick Character, Whump, You Have Been Warned, bc lets face it its the 19th century, competent Ciel, i love gore and you cannot stop me, unhygienic medical procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablecurrent/pseuds/cablecurrent
Summary: When the terrible night aboard the Campania finally comes to an end, Ciel and Sebastian find themselves waiting for a rescue ship to take them back to England. But before they can safely make landfall, the injury Undertaker's death scythe has left on the demon proves to be a problem.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis & Ciel Phantomhive
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	To the ones we lost at sea

**Author's Note:**

> It always bothered me that the manga never addressed the aftermath of my favourite Kuroshitsuji-arc (obviously bc zombies hellooo). There also aren't many Sebastian-whump fanfics out there. Not to say that the ones I did find weren't absolutely great, bc they definitely are!  
> I would like to take this moment to thank all of my fellow angst/whump-lovers and -writers for making this website a better experience. I love you all.
> 
> Please note that I chose to keep calling O!Ciel "Ciel" because at this point in the manga R!Ciel wasn't common knowledge yet. Maybe that'll change once we find out, what his actual name is :D.
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy the story and if you can find the time, I would very much appreciate a comment from you!

* * *

_We do not tell this tale to the white men. For the white men have come and took everything from us._

_Those who are lost at sea may never return to us, for their souls are released by the spirits of the ocean. There is no tale that tells the paths of the souls lost to the water. For the spirits do not speak and no soul has ever returned into the cycle after flying free._

* * *

The demon has not felt pain this clearly in a long time. The way it weighs on his limbs and drags at his breath is almost exhilarating.

But this body is not made to resist the blade of a god of death, ancient enough to have curated power in quantities no common reaper will ever achieve. This body is soft and bleeds, like humans do. And like humans it cannot move on indefinitely.

There‘s a void in his stomach, physical, like the gaping wound left behind by Undertaker, and also not, because no wound can compare to the hunger, this greedy thing, that writhes inside of him with claws blacker than darkness itself. After all, it has existed long before the darkness came.

The demon has not known pain this clearly in such a long time. And yet, this body will not heal.

* * *

In a sea of unholy corpses Ciel Phantomhive floats like a a dark emperor who‘s only ever been worshipped by the dead. 

His narrow form is wracked by shivers that the tattered black coat haphazardly thrown about his shoulders doesn’t seem to lessen in the slightest. He is cold enough that every breath freezes inside his lungs and refuses to come back out and so tired his teeth don’t even bother to chatter anymore.  
He can‘t feel his face.

His hair is plastered against his scalp, caked with salt and Sebastian‘s blood.

Said butler is a silent presence propped up against the bare seat of the small boat they‘re rocking in, a red glove firmly pressed against the hole in his body, as if a single hand could stop his inhuman entrails from slipping out. He‘s stopped breathing for some hours now, but Ciel isn‘t worried. Demons don‘t feel the need to breath after all.

The ship, that an hour ago had only been a dark spot on the horizon is now close enough that he can make out the people scurrying about on deck. Can they see them already? 

Ciel braces both hands on the wood he‘s sitting on to stand up and Sebastian coughs. Now that Ciel looks more closely, it almost seems as if the demon is a bit fuzzy around the edges, little shadowy whisps escaping from the seams of his ruined shirt.

„You‘re slipping“ he tells him as such, „control you‘re form before they find us“

„Of course“ Sebastian replies and the shadows retreat. He looks smaller all of a sudden, exhausted.

Ciel _isn‘t_ worried that much.

He stands up on wobbly legs and tries to shout, but his voice cracks at the first three tries. The tattered coat slips from his shoulders and thunks onto the seat in the stifling silence.

„Young master, you shouldn‘t strain yourself, let me call out to the ship“ Sebastian begins, but Ciel quickly cuts him off with a (quite undignified) grunt.

„Sit, Sebastian. Let me do the work for once“

He didn‘t mean to sound so unkind, not after everything that has happened during this hellish night, but his butler‘s lips quirk up in amusement and he stills.  
Ciel clears his throat, once, twice and then finally finds his voice.

„Hey,“ he yells, waving his arms as good as he can and hoping his barely adolescent voice can carry far enough, „hey, we‘re here. We’re over here! Help!“

He almost falls when the beam of the ship crew’s search light finally hits his face. 

„We’re still alive, help!“ He flails his arms a bit more just to make sure that they do not mistake them for more of the bizarre dolls. He dreads ordering Sebastian to get them onto the ship otherwise.

„Blimey“ he hears the distant cry of a sailor on deck „there’s a kid still alive down there! Go get the ladder, hurry!“

Ciel drops his arms and sinks back to the seat. Now they simply have to wait until the ship is close enough to board. He loathes to admit that yelling in the icy air has made his chest awfully tight. His limbs burn with the needles of increasing blood flow after being still for hours.  
Coughing into his hands he watches small clouds escape from his fingers. Any longer in this damned boat and he’ll turn into an icicle. An asthmatic icicle on top of that.

„Please put the coat back on, Young Master“ Sebastian admonishes „it won’t be long now“

Not deeming it necessary to argue, Ciel grabs the cloth and pulls it back over his shoulders. 

When the hull of the ship finally glides up to their small boat, a rope ladder is unfurled, coming to a stop two feet above Ciel’s head. What a faulty design. 

_Helena_ the big cursive font at the bow of the ship reads.

„Hey boy, that one dead?“ one of the sailors asks ruffly, a middle-aged man with dirty blond hair and a coarse beard.

Ciel turns to glance at Sebastian, who’s still slumped on the bottom of the boat, covered in all sorts of gunk. He does look very dead, even though his amber eyes glance up to accost the sailors peering down at them.  
The demon sighs.

„I’m quite alive I’m afraid, though unfortunately rather unsightly. I apologize.“ he rises and sways, one hand shooting out to grab the side of the boat. A splatter of blood squirts through the fingers on the other hand, still pressed to his abdomen.  
Ciel frowns. The wound still hasn’t healed apparently. How long has he been losing blood?

It doesn‘t matter. His butler will manage.

„Come, Sebastian“ Ciel croaks, his throat a glacier full of knives „let‘s get out of here.“

„If you can reach“ oh, he must be fine if he can still find the strength to tease.

Ciel scoffs and reaches up, fingers falling inches short of the first bar. He curses his height. 

„You have to jump, boy, you can do it!“ calls another man dressed in sailors’ clothes, who has appeared next to the first one.

Hoping that his cold cold knees won’t betray him he jumps. The boat gives an almighty lurch and he can just grab onto the first bar, without slipping.

As he hangs there like a wet bedsheet in the wind he realizes that he cannot possibly pull himself up like this. But then Sebastian grabs him by the hips and lifts. And breaks into a coughing fit as soon as Ciel has found footing.

„Oi, lad, you alright?“ First man asks concernedly. A whole crowd has gathered at the railing at this point.

„I’ll be fine“ Sebastian placates between coughs and when Ciel attempts to crane his head, „young master, please. Do not look down. I will be right behind you.“

The sun is starting to bleed into a new day by now. Yes, Ciel cannot wait to finally leave this dratted boat behind.

He forces his fingers to curl around the bars of the ladder and heaves himself upwards on the sheer strength of will alone. His clothes have started to freeze in all the wrong places, making the movement of his joints even harder. He hurts everywhere, as if he‘s aged a hundred years in a single night.

Agonizingly slow he ascends the ladder, up the slippery hull of the rescue ship, swaying ever so slightly with the weight of his butler climbing underneath him, but then the sailor‘s rough hands are finally within reach - „Come on, boy, grab my hand now!“ - and he stretches his shaking arm for the last time...

Behind him a splash breaks his concentration, an almost insignificant sound among the ruckus of encouraging voices from above.  
Ciel stops and looks down at the blooming red foam where Sebastian has vanished into the water.

Shocked silence gives way to a myriad of horrified gasps as the onlookers realize what‘s happened.

His reaction is slow, dulled by hours in the cold.  
But then again, there‘s nothing much to think about, really.

Before Ciel has even fully comprehended, his hands have left the ladder and he‘s diving into the deep blue.

* * *

For the second time this forsaken day he finds himself encased in ice and the shock of it drives a plume of bubbles from his mouth. Saltwater stings in his eyes and he struggles to keep them open. He needs to see, needs to find Sebastian but the water is still dark from the sun having only just risen above the horizon. 

His left eye cannot tell shadows apart, but his cursed eye sees more. And there, so close, with blood seeping from his middle like a ghastly ribbon of fate, is the body of his butler, pale as ghost and unmoving. 

Ciel grabs him at the waist and is immediately sinking, as his wet clothes, combined with the freakishly tall figure of the demon turn out to be a burden too heavy for his small childish body to carry. The surface of the ocean glitters above him, taunting his struggles with beams of light. 

It is quiet down here and dark, as if the world is muted and insignificant. It could have been so peaceful if not for his brain screaming for air, filling him with blinding panic.  
Ciel is not a good swimmer and Sebastian’s dead weight is dragging him down even though he kicks his legs as hard as he can. Why in the blazes is he so heavy?  
The water is rapidly stealing every last bit of warmth from him and he feels his head grow light with lack of oxygen.

How cruel the world is, taking and taking from him so relentlessly. Why should he bother then, if his fate is sealed with nothing but losses.

But this is not how he is supposed to go, right? With such a pitiful excuse for giving up. It’s just Sebastian, Ciel thinks. What kind of avenger would he be if he couldn’t even keep onto the only person at his side, even if that person will ultimately be the source of his demise?

With a burst of unknown strength he breaks the surface and reality rushes back in to greet him with cries of relief. He gasps a desperate breath, filling his lungs with sweet sweet air. A rope is tossed to him as he furiously struggles to keep his demon from sinking.

„Tie it around you, boy, we can pull you up!“

„Grab the rope!“

„Hurry!“

Ciel has never tied a seaman’s knot in his life so he can only wind the thick coiling rope around the both of them clumsily. Once, then twice. His hands burn and the rope is slippery as the strength in his fingers quickly diminishes. Has he pulled the knot tight enough? Did he do it wrong?  
But he can’t keep Sebastian above the surface any longer. The knot will hold. It has to.

He yanks at the rope to signal that he is ready and then they are being hoisted up. Ciel grits his teeth as it bruises his ribs with every pull, but all he can do is to make sure Sebastian doesn’t slip out of the pathetic loop he’s tied.

Finally, finally rough hands grab him and his weak knees hit the deck. Bracing both hands on the wet wood he spits a mouth full of water to the relief of the gaping crowd. Exhaustion hits him like a bullet to the head as a blessedly dry blanket is wrapped around him.

People are talking at him, but he is too tired to pay them any attention. He feels as though his hands and feet may fall off at any moment. Breathing hurts. He cannot gain control over the shivering.

„CIEL!!!“

Is that Lizzy? He blearily looks at the crowd of motley people where the girl is wriggling her way through.

„Ciel, thank god you’re okay!“ She hits him in a hug and her tousled curls are across his vision. She radiates a warmth that reminds him of comfort, a toasty fire in the fireplace and a fresh cup of tea.

„Lizzy“ he whispers, too spend to hug her back. She is warm and he is not.

She’s crying as she holds him close. 

„I’m so glad, Ciel, thank god you’re okay“ she repeats over and over.

Then Sebastian’s unconscious body is carefully lowered next to him and he remembers. Sebastian who’s kept protecting him after being impaled on a death scythe. Sebastian who fought through an entire night just to keep him safe from the never-ending onslaught of bizarre dolls.

„A doctor“ he says loudly and with surprising clarity, betraying his scattered thoughts, „my butler, he needs a doctor“

That’s it, he thinks then. He can’t support himself on these shaking limbs any longer. And with a weary gaze to the sky he succumbs.

* * *

He sleeps like the corpses that kept him company during the night and when he wakes, it is a bright and sunny day above the Atlantic. He’s huddled in the same coarse blanket from before and lying on nothing but a sheet on the ground. There is a tragic cacophony around him, filled with moans and cries of pain and tears.

He sits up carefully, lethargy slowing his movements and takes a look at his surroundings.

What seems to have once been the dining hall of the ship has been transformed into a makeshift sickbay. Hundreds of „cots“ just like his speckle the wooden floor, made out of bedsheets, pillows and whatever could be scavenged. Sailors and workers alike shuffle through the narrow spaces between cots, carrying bowls and bandages, towels and bread. The sick and injured are being tended to by far too little medical personnel with their once-white tunics and sleep-deprived frowns. 

It is unmistakably clear that the ship was never equipped to handle this many refugees.

They are quite large in number considering the massacre onboard the Campania. Ciel doesn’t know if he should be surprised or relieved.

Sebastian is sleeping in the cot next to his. Ciel has never seen the demon sleep in all of the three years of their contract. Without the burn of ancient eyes overshadowing his presence, he looks awfully young. How old is this form that Sebastian chose for him? Twenty? Twenty-two?

Ciel rubs his chest where a deep ache has settled. He hopes to be spared the inevitable sickness for a while longer. At least until they land in a harbor again.

A girl comes and brings him a bowl of tasteless soup that he drinks nevertheless.

When he finishes chewing on the piece of stale bread that came with the soup he sees a small gaggle of figures approaching his location. Even dressed in borrowed clothes the Midforts command attention wherever they go. The hulking form of Alexis cuts a path into the sleepless crowd of makeshift nurses like a cliff admidst the raging sea.

Lizzy hurries to check him over, as Frances kneels down in front of him.

„Ciel“ she says his name, without scrutiny for once, „we came as soon we heard you awakened. It is good to see you with my own eyes“

„I am glad that you and your family have made it off the Campania uninjured“ Ciel says diplomatically. 

Frances gives him an appreciative nod. They don’t have to exchange more meaningless banter.

The Midforts keep him company for a while. Frances hunts down a doctor to check on Ciel’s quiet cough and he is told to keep warm and take it easy and to drink plenty of hot beverages.

He plays an awkward game of I spy with my little eye with Lizzy and Edward that ends in the latter declaring that he has dyschromatopsia and is therefore handicapped enough to warrant extra points. It is a blatant lie. 

When the family leaves for their quarters, Lizzy tugs at his blanket. 

„Won’t you come stay with us, instead of here“ she asks with hope in her eyes, „all the sick people won’t be good for your health and we have plenty of space in our cabin“

Ciel curls his fingers around the mug of disgustingly bland tea in his hands.

„Thank you, but I can’t“ he says and glances at his butler, „Sebastian’s too injured to be moved and I need to stay with him“

It is Alexis who interrupts a without doubt scalding comment from his wife.

„We understand. We will see each other in the morning, Ciel. Make sure to take plenty of rest“

The man puts a placating arm around Frances’ waist.

„That butler has been with him since the day his parents died“ Ciel hears him say as they walk away, „who are we to separate a child from the only constant he has. After all, he looks so much like Vincent.“

Lizzy turns to give him a smile that is both warm and sad.

* * *

Sebastian opens his eyes on the first night since they escaped from the Campania. Ciel, who was just about to fall asleep quickly scrambles up making his head swim. A cough escapes his chest.

„My my, young master. One day without me and you’re already this disheveled? I thought I taught you better“

„Shut up, Sebastian. Now that you’re finally done sleeping you can go and make me a proper cup of tea! I’ve been drinking this cold brown leaf juice for way too long.“

He’s glad, he admits to himself, glad that his (irrational) worries can be laid to rest. Sebastian is awake. He’s fine. Life can go on.

„Of course, my lord“

His butler smiles and sits up.

And a fountain of blood and coagulum gushes out of his mouth, descending all over the blanket in his lap with a wet splat.

Ciel stares in shock as Sebastian confusedly touches a finger to his lips, as if unsure if that amount of blood really came from him. Then his face contorts and he doubles-over, scrambling to remove the bandages from his bare upper body.  
When the wound is revealed, barely holding together with poor stitching and still oozing red as if not a second has passed since Undertaker’s blade pulled out with a vile squelch, an inhuman snarl curls as the back of the demon’s throat.

Suddenly a scream echoes through he sickbay as the woman in the cot opposite becomes aware of the bloodbath. Soon, the entire row of patients is awake. A boy who can’t be older than sixteen, with a cast around his leg, hollers for a doctor.

„Young master…“ Sebastian growls, making Ciel flinch unwittingly, „how long have I been asleep?“

„Twelve… twelve hours“ he stutters, not knowing what to do.

The demon spits a bloody clump into the mess in his lap. 

„This is unfortunate“ he hisses, his voice a far cry from the usual mellow lilt. He sounds angry, dangerous even.

He’s in pain, Ciel realizes, his demon is in pain.

The increasing sound of clattering draws his attention towards the doctor that hurries down the aisle with his makeshift cart of supplies.

„Good Lord“ the man says and holds his head for a split second before springing into action. Unearthing a needle and a thread from the messy cart he shoves the ruined blanket and bandages aside to kneel behind Sebastian’s hunched form.

It is at this moment that the demon sways and tips sideways and only quick reflexes enable Ciel to pull him close before he hits the dirty floor. Thankfully his cot is right next to the wall so he can lean against it for support. 

„Sir“ the doctor firmly addresses his patient, „Sir, can you hear me?“

„Yes“ he presses through gritted teeth.

„I have to redo the stitches on your back and front, these won’t do“ the doctor says and sends Ciel a concerned look, „can you hold him up, while I work?“

He nods and cradles Sebastian against him. He barely notices how cold the butler is against the cracked skin of his hands. 

„Sir, before I begin, I must warn you that we have unfortunately run out of analgesics, but we can-…“

„It’s fine. Do it“ 

As the needle sinks into his mangled flesh, Sebastian tangles a hand into the back of Ciel’s shirt and hisses like a cornered cat. But as the doctor continues working he soon falls silent and stops breathing entirely. Ciel can feel the hand on his back start to tremble uncontrollably and wonders if it is out of pain or out of desire to rip out the doctor’s beating heart.

Minutes or hours later, Ciel can‘t possibly tell, the last stitch is eventually completed.

The medic tiredly sits back on his heels and rubs at his eyes, unconsciously smearing a trail of blood all over his face. They have propped Sebastian up for the front row of stitches on an a wedge of pillows and blankets, both Ciel’s and other patients’ offerings.  
There he lays, still and white as a wraith, eyes shut. His lips are blue.

And Ciel’s hands are red. He’s had to help with the procedure at some point, but he can only recall parts of it. He remembers the slick feeling of holding tissues (organs?) in place, so that they could close the wound after removing the old stitches. His heart is hammering in his chest. He feels sick.

Robotically he washes his hands in the offered bowl of lukewarm water. They do not tremble.

„You should clean the wounds and change the bandages every 6 hours“ the doctor says to him, as he readies himself to see after whoever might be in need of medical treatment next.

„Call for me, if there are any drastic changes. For now we can only hope that he hasn’t lost too much blood and that he survives the infection.“

* * *

At sunrise of the second day a small white snake nudges Ciel awake. He wakes slowly, head feeling stuffed full of cotton. His throat hurts.

The narrow frame of Snake is kneeling in front of his cot. His eyes nervously dart around invisible patterns on the ground.

„Snake?“ Ciel addresses him hoarsely.

„We’re sorry for not visiting earlier… says Emily“ Snakes wrings his pale hands in his lap. „We wanted to but the smell was so intense, we could not find you and then we started feeling overwhelmed and…“

„It’s okay, Snake. I understand“ The footman is certainly not the only one being overwhelmed these days. Though Ciel has been wondering whether the teen had made it out in time. He can admit to himself that the thought of losing him so soon after induction to the Phantomhive household would have given him quite a bit of grievance.

A small noise to their right makes both of them perk up. Sebastian’s eyes are open and he offers them a smile that is far too weak for Ciel’s liking.

„Black!“ Snake exclaims. „What happened to you? We never saw you again after we split up… says Wordsworth.“

Sebastian grimaces. „We had a small trifle with some… unsavory characters in the ballroom. Nothing to worry about, really.“

„About that ‚small trifle‘“ Ciel says darkly, „I believe it is time to change your bandages“

Sebastian glares at him, but obediently lets his master undo the wrappings on his body. Ciel frowns at the messy gash disfiguring his butler‘s pale skin. At least it isn’t bleeding anymore.

He catalogues the meager supplies a nurse has left for them in a pile and is at an utter loss on what to do. However he‘s supposed to put Sebastian back together, he has no idea.

It seems though, that Snake, who has been silently watching the exchange, does.

„Here, let us..“ he murmurs and reaches across Ciel to retrieve a cloth and a bowl of water.

„When we were with Joker and… when we were at the circus, the doctor would teach us how to do first aid and how to keep wounds clean… says Bronte. … He would often have to treat practice injuries and he wanted us to know the basics, so that we would not be helpless if he ever wouldn’t be available… says Oscar.“

He shows Ciel how to remove scabs and make sure no dirt is caught in the wound before demonstrating how to wrap everything back up securely.

„Do you…“ the footman starts tentatively and gives him an unsure look, „do you want to try on the other side?“

Ciel takes the offered cloth and Sebastian heaves a long suffering sigh, before rolling onto his side with the help of Snake.

„What happened to your friends? Are they around here too now?“ Ciel tries to keep the conversation going in a meager attempt to distract himself from the nauseating prospect of touching the injuries on his butler’s body again.

„We told them to scatter and find a way out, but I don’t think most of them survived in the water… says Emily. Only a few of us could hide on the rescue boats.“ Snake mutters sadly.

Something deep inside Ciel’s chest constricts as he thinks about the lies he’s fed Snake about the whereabouts of his circus family. For him to lose any more of his friends reminds him an awful lot of himself and he doesn’t like that at all.

„I’m sorry“ he says and is glad that at least he doesn’t have to lie about that.

* * *

„When this is over“ Ciel tells Sebastian while dragging half a dry bread roll through watery stew, „I want you to make me a five course menu with only sweets and pastries. They dare to pass this disgusting grub here for food. What a waste of ingredients. Your cooking is so much better.“

„Why thank you, young master“ Sebastian chuckles, „what kind of butler would I be, if I couldn’t even prepare food to my lord’s liking?“

The _Helena_ sails on underneath the sun of a bright day.

* * *

„Why aren’t you healing?“ Ciel asks as he dabs at the drops of sweat that cover his demon’s brow.

Sebastian looks at him with amber eyes, clouded in pain and fever. Of course they’d forgotten about the infection the doctor had spoken off. The one that was almost guaranteed to set in.

„Injuries inflicted by an experienced reaper’s death scythe are rather taxing on our biology, I’m afraid“

Ciel wrings the cloth in the bowl of cool water next to his knees and places it back on Sebastian’s forehead.

„You healed from Grell’s blow just fine“ he argues while he throws back the blanket and gets to work on changing the bandages.

Sebastian winces visibly when Ciel starts cleaning the raw edges of the wound, inflamed now and weeping fluid.

„I haven’t fed in a long time“ he says and his voice cracks so unlike the picture of perfection he usually likes to paint.

„We demons need food to survive… just the way humans do, albeit in lesser quantities. But we still need it once in a while“

„So what you are saying is, that you don’t have enough energy to heal and in order regain it, you must consume souls“

„Just one would suffice“

„You know that I could order you against taking any soul on this ship, do you?“

His demon gives him a knowing look before closing his eyes in exhaustion.

„And yet you haven’t“

Ciel continues to change the bandages.

* * *

On the second evening Sebastian won’t wake to Ciel’s calls any longer. He tries shaking his shoulder and raising his voice, but his demon’s head just lolls bonelessly and his complexion is splotchy with infection.

He doesn’t dare ordering him to rise.

When he calls a doctor, the man puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head, tight-lipped and silent. 

He can do nothing but sit and wait, nursing his own worsening cough and exchanging luke-warm cloths with equally useless cool ones.

The stench of the sickbay is maddening.

Ciel would have expected his demon to smell of sickness. Instead he smells like nothing at all, as if he was never there in the first place. Just a ghost in the imagination of a broken child.

* * *

Lizzy find him in the early dark of night, when she manages to escape her worried parents' clutches.  
She arrives dressed in the same clothes as before, all her wardrobe having sunk to the bottom of the ocean.  
She sits down next to him and their shoulders touch because there is no space.

„How are you?“ she asks quietly and Ciel does not like her voice when it is tinged by such worry. She does not deserve to be burdened this way. She has not lived the life he did and by whatever god there may be, he hopes she never does.

So he says „I’m fine“ as if his ribs are not bruised and hurting and his lungs do not burn when he breathes.

And he asks „Are you alright?“ instead and she tells him that aunt Frances had this dark look on her face after they visited him and Sebastian this afternoon. The same look she wore before telling her of the fire in Phantomhive manor three years ago.

Ciel knows his aunt and how she would never intentionally burden her daughter with the knowledge of those who have seen death.

Still, Lizzy sees Sebastian’s pale face and his labored breathing. The part of the blanket that covers a still weeping wound. How Ciel has not left his butler’s side once since he woke up.

„Mr. Sebastian. Will he…“ she whispers, as though his answer would bring her any peace.

Ciel wraps an arm around her and pretends to be stronger than the tightness in his chest.

„I don’t know“

* * *

At midnight Ciel’s fitful sleep is interrupted by the sound of footsteps. He immediately sits to check on Sebastian and finds his demon wide awake. His eyes are a burning fuchsia, two glowing sapphires in the dark, staring straight ahead.

Following his gaze Ciel sees a man holding a candle standing at their feet.  
He is not very tall and dressed like one of the workers back on the Campania in overalls and a longe-sleeved shirt, though both are scuffed and dirtied beyond recognition. His hair is dark and curling so tightly they betray its actual length. There’s a bandage covering his right eye.

„Who are you?“ Ciel asks. 

The man looks at him with his one eye, a deep brown like new earth saturated with rain.

„My name is Andrali“ he says in a lilting tenor. His accent is thick and unclassifiable.

He fixes Sebastian with his strange gaze.

„You are a soul-snatcher“ he says. There is no fear in his voice, only a sense of calm that comes with the certainty of knowledge.

„I am“ Sebastian answers and there’s a guttural undertone to his voice, clearly marking him as inhuman. „Why have you come to me?“

Andrali is quiet for a moment before smiling mirthlessly.

„I come from a place many moons away from your home. We believe in the sacred cycle of life, death and rebirth. When a soul dies, it becomes one with the matter of life and from the matter a new soul of many pasts can be reborn.“

In the flickering light of the candle Ciel can see the many swirling tattoos painting the ochre colored skin of Andrali’s forearms, telling tales of the past, present and future.

„I want to tell you my story and I hope you will listen“ the man says softly and when neither Ciel nor Sebastian speak up, he takes a shuddering breath and begins.

„My wife, my daughter and many others were taken from our home by the Englishmen when they came to steal our land for its rich soil. They spilled the blood of our fathers over the sacred earth of our spirit garden and laughed at the cries of our mothers as they were beaten to death. They satisfied their needs with my sisters and burned them as witches. I begged them to have mercy, to spare my daughter and they chained my hands and feet and told me to watch as they set fire to my village. They chained my brothers and me as slaves and took our wives and children to sell to rich Englishmen.  
We sailed on the great ocean for two months. Some of my brothers died of infection, others wasted away soon after. The Englishmen tried to rape my Lanira when they were done with the wives and she jumped into the sea to escape. My wive, my beautiful Dahlia, couldn’t bear it and she threw herself after my daughter. I would have followed them, but I was chained and helpless.  
The Englishman sold me to a company when we came to England, because I was strong and alive. They told me that I would sail again, in the belly of big ships. So I sailed year after year and I hoped that I would find my wife and daughter at sea. That was a long time ago.  
I have sailed all the oceans in the world and I cry for them every night. But now I know that I cannot find them in this world. My ship has sunk and if I stay here, I will be put on another ship and I will sail until my body withers and dies and I will be reborn, but I will not be with my beloved.“

At this he hesitates briefly before gravely saying:

„I have come to offer you my soul.“

Sebastian shudders as if sensing its essence and marveling at its taste. But still he accosts the offerer with harsh words.

„If I consume your soul, you will go to neither heaven nor hell. You will never see your wife and child again.“

„Do you know where I go then?“ Andrali looks the demon straight in the eye.

Sebastian pauses, then shakes his head. „Nothing exists that knows where such a soul may go.“

Oxymoronically Andrali smiles.

„The bodies of my beloved were lost at sea and their souls were released from the cycle by the spirits of the ocean. I cannot find them in your heaven or your hell. But maybe I will meet them again beyond your heaven, beneath your hell. Wherever I might go when I leave the cycle. Maybe they will be waiting for me. It is risk that I am willing to take.“

„Then why not throw yourself into the sea like Lanira and Dhalia?“ the demon argues. „Why not chose the same path as them?“

Andrali‘s smile is the smile of the old amd tired.

„How I end my cycle does not matter to me. My life is worthless but I can see that this human…“ they both briefly face Ciel, „.. this human needs you. If I give you my soul you will heal and I will have given my final gift to this cruel world.“

He takes off the bandage on his face revealing a milky white eye.

„Ever since I saw them die my right eye is cursed and I see the regrets of the dead who remain bound to this world. I can see the reason behind your anguish. You have a cursed eye too, boy, so tell me what do you see?“

Slowly, as if compelled Ciel lifts the patch over his right eye and looks. He sees Andrali but it is, as if he is many different people, hundreds and thousand, all parts of the never-ending cycle. And he sees, a little to his left, two lithe shadows, reaching out with a love that knows no bounds.

„Do you understand now, boy?“ The matter that is Andrali asks.

„I understand“ whispers Ciel.

The man slowly puts down his candle. He slips off his shoes. Barefooted he falls to his knees.

„I offer you my soul, demon“ he repeats as Sebastian’s fuchsia eyes flicker towards his master, asking for a permission he already has. 

Ciel nods once.

„Then I shall accept your offer“ Sebastian breathes and a burst of shadows curl around his prone form, plunging the hall into complete darkness. 

„Please close your eyes, young master.“

Ciel acquiesces and under the moon of a starlit night his demon takes the soul of a man.

* * *

When he opens his eyes again, Andrali is gone and Sebastian is tearing the stitches from his body.

The ghastly wound knits itself together before his eyes, as if being the most simple task in the world. And his demon is whole again.

Sebastian sits up, looking surprised at the ease with which his body is able to move once more. 

„So, how did he taste?“ Ciel asks, a sore attempt at humor.

Sebastian says nothing and Ciel pretends to not notice the single tear, that cuts a path down his porcelain cheek.

* * *

In the morning of the third day the _Helena_ arrives at the Port of London and releases its wayward passengers onto dry land.

Ciel steps out of the ship with the single-minded determination to never look back at it again. 

When his carriage rolls out of London and over a steep hill, he tells Tanaka to stop.

Walking out onto the tall grass and moving the few steps to the apex of the hill, Ciel can see the ocean, endlessly stretching towards the horizon. The brisk wind plays with his hair and brings with it the salty scent of the coast.

Behind him his butler stands tall, as strong and unmoving as ever.

„Where do you think he is now?“ Ciel asks him.

Sebastian looks across the untamed sea and then up into the sky.

„With his family.“

* * *

_The white men tell their children to beware of the soul-snatchers they call demons. They dress in lies and trade in empty promises and if you believe them, your soul will be consumed, unable to join your loved ones in heaven. They say that the demon is the evil that good men must resist, that he is the source of their anguish. And they forget that they have blood on their hands, and empty promises on their lips, worse than what the demon has ever offered them._

_But we say, do not be afraid when the demon comes for you. Because in the end, the demon is the only one who will appreciate you for what you truly are._

**Author's Note:**

> Wohoo, you have made it to the end of the story!  
> The mythology I used is not supposed to be based on any existing religion. Therefore some things might remain unclear.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and have a nice day/night!


End file.
